


The Day Derek was (Not) Abducted by Aliens

by whenshewrites



Series: A Collection of One-Shots and Tumblr Prompts [57]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alien Abduction, Alpha Derek Hale, Derek Hale Loves Stiles Stilinski, Derek Hale is Bad at Feelings, Derek Hale is a Softie, Fluff and Humor, Idiots in Love, M/M, Mutual Pining, Peter Hale Ships It, Sassy Peter Hale, Stiles Stilinski Loves Derek Hale, Stiles Stilinski is a Little Shit, Stiles Stilinski is a Mess, The Hale Pack - Freeform, but not really
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-27
Updated: 2020-06-27
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:55:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24938659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whenshewrites/pseuds/whenshewrites
Summary: Stiles is pretty sure there's something wrong with Derek. Like he might be a doppelganger or an alien or something.Because Derek is being nice to him. Like, really nice.
Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Series: A Collection of One-Shots and Tumblr Prompts [57]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1956889
Comments: 29
Kudos: 587





	The Day Derek was (Not) Abducted by Aliens

Stiles noticed the changes gradually.

The changes in Derek Hale, that is. Resident grumpy Alpha werewolf, Derek Hale, who had been throwing Stiles into walls a lot less and started acting quietly careful around him a lot more. 

He noticed the changes gradually and the thing was, he didn’t know what to do about them. Because since when did Derek not want to rip Stiles’s throat out with his teeth? Since when was he not a giant grump whenever Stiles made a single comment?

Sure, they’d known each other for a while now. Stiles would like to say that he was a lot less scared of Derek and a lot more… well, he didn’t like to dwell on that. But Stiles would even go as far as calling them friends. Or very good acquaintances. Or something like that. The point is, Derek no longer avidly hated him. He was less growly. And he only glared sometimes when Stiles was around.

Then things changed.

Because suddenly, Derek was there. Just… there. At Stiles’s side. Swinging through his window every other night. Looking like a serial killer every time Scott sat too close during pack movie nights.

It was strange.

Stiles had started cataloging his changes because he was pretty sure something was wrong. Maybe Derek had been replaced by a duplicate, maybe there was something in the water, or maybe he was secretly dying. And in the process of secretly dying, Derek realized not being nice to Stiles was his life’s biggest regret. So he was trying to do things better.

Stiles kind of doubted that last one. But hey, a boy could dream, right?

At this point, Derek wasn’t always literally ‘there’ but he was being expressive too. If expression could be conveyed by standing too close, occasionally touching the back of Stiles’s neck, and sitting pressed up against him in the loft, that is. Stiles thought for Derek Hale, that was pretty expressive.

He tried talking to Scott about it. But Scott was never very good talking about anything non-Allison related. Erica just laughed at him. Isaac rolled his eyes.

Boyd didn’t even stick around long enough for Stiles to talk.

But the point is, Stiles was pretty sure something was very wrong. And he was determined to do something about it.

It started when Derek swung through his window that night.

Stiles turned slowly around and leveled the werewolf with his very best death stare. Derek froze with one foot in his bedroom and one foot still on the roof, and actually looked nervous. Derek Hale never looked nervous. 

Something was so truly and unbelievably wrong.

“Stiles,” Derek said slowly, pulling himself the rest of the way inside. Stiles crossed his arms and tilted an eyebrow, and Derek blinked at him. “Is something wrong?”

“I don’t know, Derek, is something wrong?”

The other man stared at him. Then he huffed and moved over to Stiles’s bed, dropping down on the edge. “No. Have you started the research yet?”

“I don’t know, Derek, have I started the research yet?”

“What’s wrong with you.”

Stiles rolled his eyes and shoved himself up. Clearly, this line of questioning wasn’t getting them anywhere. 

Derek tracked his every move, looking a little wary, and Stiles paced the length of his room before turning around and pacing it again. He finally stopped in front of Derek and narrowed his eyes, studying the man. 

Derek didn’t look any different, but it could be underneath the skin. Cautiously, Stiles reached out and poked at his face. Derek snarled and smacked his hand away.

“Stiles, what is  _ wrong with you?” _

“Nothing’s wrong with me, Sourwolf, something’s wrong with you!”

Derek gave him a flat look and Stiles resisted the urge to poke at his face again. After a long moment of having the most murder-y staring contest in his life, Stiles tore his gaze away with a groan and Derek pushed himself up, shaking his head. “Just… have something to bring to the loft tomorrow.”

“Sure, yeah, whatever,  _ Derek.  _ If that’s even your real name.”

Derek gave him one more flat, confused look before pulling himself out the window. Stiles rushed after him, before the man could vanish into the night. Like a vampire. Or Batman. Or whatever the hell he was.

Because it wasn’t Derek Hale.

“I hope you know I’m onto you!” Stiles shouted after him. Derek didn’t even bother looking back, moving across the lawn and literally melting into the shadows.

Stiles slammed his window down too hard and lined it with mountain ash.

* * *

The next day, he arrived at the loft early. The only werewolves around were Derek and Peter, and Stiles shot Peter an unimpressed look the moment he stepped over the threshold.

But then he paused. Peter crooked up an eyebrow from the couch and over in the kitchen, Derek watched him warily. Stiles was pretty sure he was getting suspicious. Or nervous. Or something.

Good.

“Stiles. You’re early.”

“Am I?”

“Did you get anything done last night?”

Stiles studied the man. In truth, he had not. Nothing for the monster of the week, that is. But he had done quite a bit of research on doppelgangers, alien abduction, and brainwashing. Among other things. “I got more done than you’ll ever suspect.”

Derek looked confused. From the couch, Peter tilted his head and looked intrigued. 

Stiles glared at Derek for a few more minutes before crossing the room and grabbing Peter’s arm, dragging him back toward the door. The werewolf made a noise of surprise and Derek was looking concerned now, but Stiles pointed one threatening finger at him and he froze. 

“Stay, Sourwolf.”

“Stiles, what the hell is wrong with you?”

_ “Stay.” _

Derek’s expression turned murderous, but he didn’t move. Stiles dragged Peter out of the loft and then down the hall. 

“Tell me when he can’t hear us anymore.”

“What?”

“Tell me when the thing inside the loft can’t hear us anymore,” Stiles said, shaking Peter’s arm. The man gave him an incredulous look and Stiles sighed, finally coming to a stop where he hoped Derek’s hearing didn’t reach. Finally, he let go, and Peter was looking at him like he’d just grown horns.

“The thing in the loft?”

Stiles crossed his arms. “Yes. I don’t trust it.”

“It.”

“Yes, it. Dude, are you even listening?”

“Derek.”

“That is not Derek.”

Peter’s eyes sparked and he titled his head, studying Stiles up and down. Then he sighed. “What has my ridiculous nephew done this time?”

“Oh my god, you’re not listening. That is not Derek,” Stiles said, jerking his chin toward the loft door. “He’s been replaced. Or possessed. Or duplicated. Or something, but that is not Derek.”

“And why would you think that?”

“Because,” Stiles hissed. “He’s less grumpy, he’s less growly, and he’s less intense. He’s nice to me, Creeperwolf, nice to  _ me _ . A few days ago, he let me borrow a shirt when I spilled juice on mine and spent the rest of the afternoon smiling.”

Peter stared at him. Stiles swallowed hard.

“I think he’s been abducted by aliens and this is an imposter.”

“Seriously?”

“Yes, seriously! There’s something wrong with him!”

Peter had an expression on his face like he’d like to throw himself off the nearest cliff. He closed his eyes and sighed, before looking at Stiles again with an expression of thinly veiled distaste. “I don’t understand.”

“You don’t… you don’t understand?” Stiles said, staring at him. “How the hell am I supposed to better explain this, Peter? You’ve lived with him! Don’t tell me he hasn’t been acting different. Like, light, smiley-er, and calmer different.”

“Yes,” Peter drawled. “I do live with him. And I have noticed.”

“So what the hell don’t you understand?”

“I don’t understand,” Peter said deliberately. “How you’re such an idiot. Or how my nephew has fallen in love with such an idiot.”

Stiles blinked at him. His jaw snapped shut.

“Why does an Alpha werewolf growl when people get too close to his things, Stiles?” Peter said. “Why does he bask in self-satisfaction when the object of his desire goes around wearing his clothes, or carries his scent from movie nights being pressed up too together? You’re a bright boy, Stiles. Can you put two and two together?”

Stiles’s mouth opened and closed, but no sound came out. Peter rolled his eyes.

“The pack meeting is canceled and I’m leaving. The next time you decided alien abduction is the answer, try ruling out the more obvious things first.”

Stiles blinked after him. Then he turned around and stared at the loft door before slowly moving toward it. Derek was still in the kitchen when Stiles poked his head inside and he arched a brow from the kitchen.

“Where’s Peter?”

Stiles just stared at him. Derek slowly set down his mug.

“Stiles, what did you do to Peter?”

“What? Nothing. He left.”

Derek looked suspicious and Stiles grinned nervously, pushing into the loft. He was pretty sure Peter was wrong and Derek was not in love with him. Alien abduction was the truth.

But at the same time, Stiles suddenly… wasn’t so sure.

“So,” Stiles said, fiddling with his hands. “There’s something I’m going to say and if it’s completely wrong then feel free to growl or rip my head off or maybe never talk to me again. That’s totally acceptable.”

Both of Derek’s brows were raised now. Stiles took a deep breath and nearly choked on his own spit, the words coming out so fast.

“Are you in love with me?”

Derek went still, his eyes flickering. Before he could lose his nerve and maybe melt into a puddle, Stiles plowed on.

“I mean, you’ve been all nice and soft and fluffy lately. I mean, you haven’t pushed me into any walls in a couple weeks and you sometimes loan me clothes, and get this weird expression on your face when I’m anywhere close to you and—”

“Stiles,” Derek said, cutting him off. Stiles closed his mouth with a miserable expression, sure he was about to get either punched or brutally told off. But instead, Derek looked a little nervous too. “Stiles, it’s the… alien abduction.”

And Stiles’s heart stopped.

Later on, when the story was retold, Stiles would deny to his last breath that he grabbed the nearest thing he could find (a table lamp) and nearly brained Derek with it. He’d also never admit that he was pretty sure Derek nearly attacked  _ him  _ at that.

But in his defense, Stiles had no idea Derek had a sense of humor up until that moment. And also? He hadn’t dragged Peter far away enough and the asshole of an Alpha listened in on personal conversations. 

But Stiles didn’t brain Derek. And he’d never give Peter any of the credit to things that might have occurred in the loft after that.

Because see, Stiles noticed the changes gradually.

But there was nothing gradual about his (or Derek’s) reaction when figuring them out. 

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a Tumblr prompt and... it's just a lot of fluffy humor with these two idiots. My favorite kind of fic. I hope you all enjoyed! Comments make my day ;)
> 
> Come hang with me on Tumblr!
> 
> [the dumpster](https://when-she-writes-stuff.tumblr.com/)


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